Harry Potter and Destiny's Calling
by Sailor Jedi Witch
Summary: BRAND-NEW AND REVISED!!! A new girl comes to Hogwarts, and is very strange. Harry can't shake that uncanny aura she gives off, and neither can any of the others. Little do they know that she's here to help Harry answer the summons of destiny!
1. New Kid in Town

Hello, dear friends, and welcome to the revised _Harry Potter and Destiny's Calling. _As you may have noticed, I've totally started over from scratch with the story. The reason is that I had previously had tunnel vision, and didn't realize that my character was the Mary Sue of all Mary Sues. (Thank you for bringing this to my attention, reviewers. Especially you, Imperator.) Therefore, out of my own shame, I got rid of it, and started over. It will still contain elements of the original, but for the most part, it will be quite different. So, on to the new and, I hope, improved version! P.S. I wrote the Sorting hat song all on my own. Yay! Aren't I special?

DISCLAIMER: If you think that I own Harry potter, I've only one thing to say: Welcome to earth, my brothers from space!

Harry Potter and Destiny's Calling

PG for non-Disney-esque-ness

Chapter One: New Kid in Town

          At first glance, the girl wasn't anything special. Her auburn hair was straight, though quite messy, and constantly tried to take over her face. Not that that was much, either. It had no remarkable features, even if nothing was out of place. The nose; straight, but plain, the mouth; soft, but made more for speaking rather than kissing. Her cheeks might have been called rosy, but they were covered with freckles, and her misty gray eyes were rather nice, but her short lashes and bushy eyebrows seemed to steal some of the beauty away. Her form was lean, but a bit on the lanky side, making her look a bit like a stork. As said before, nothing special. But again, as said before, that was only at first glance.

          If you happened to take the effort to look again, whether due to curiosity, friendliness, or just plain coincidence, you would've seen that though her eyes were unremarkable, they held wisdom and intelligence. That though her form was more awkward than graceful, she fit well in it, for her walk and stance were confident and sure. 

          Sadly, not many bothered to cast that second glance.

          But none of this seemed to concern her as she, alone, pushed her cart through King's Cross Station, crossed the barrier dividing platforms nine and ten, and strolled onto platform nine and three-quarters. As a matter of fact, nothing at all seemed as though it would much concern her, including the hustle and bustle all around her, from tearful farewells to family, or joyful reunions with old friends. Nope, nothing seemed to matter to her at all; the girl with her cart, just going about her way, stepping onto the train and entering an empty compartment, not bothering anyone, not being bothered. 

          And though many barged into her little compartment, disrupting this strange cloud of solitude that hovered about her, none found what they were seeking. Not in the plain, quiet girl who didn't care to come into contact with anyone. 

          Not in this most peculiar girl, who, had they bothered, anyone would've seen, was unlike any other. 

~*~*~

          "Harry! Ron!" an exasperated Hermione called, running up to the pair. "I asked you to wait for me!" 

"Sorry, Hermione," Harry apologized, smiling, "but the man taking the tickets rushed us in."

"It's all right," Hermione answered, smiling back.

"Yes, well, enough. The train's about to pull out of the station, and even Ginny's already on," Ron informed them, pushing his cart forward. "Come on!"

          Harry and Hermione complied, pushing their own carts as well, and rushing onto the train. They didn't really expect there to be any empty compartments this late, so they just stepped into the first one with an open door. 

          "May we come in?" Harry asked politely, poking his head in the doorway to find a girl sitting by herself. She nodded, and he grinned, then gestured for his companions to enter with him. Chattering all the time, they moved their luggage about and settled down. Only when they were finished doing so did they notice that the girl whose compartment that had so suddenly occupied hadn't said a word, only watched, somberly, as they talked and laughed. This made Harry a bit uncomfortable, but he smiled nonetheless, and asked for her name.

          "I am called Breanna Phaon. You are Harry Potter." Harry didn't seem too astonished by the comment; lots of people could tell who he was if they looked. 

"The one with the red hair," she continued, "is Ron Weasley. And the one with the sharp eyes," – Hermione blushed with pleasure – "is Hermione Granger, Prefect of Gryffindor House."

          Ron and Hermione went wide-eyed, and chorused, "How did you _do_ that?" Breanna smiled, the first time any of them had seen her do so, and simply said,

"You are wearing your badges." 

          Harry looked over at Ron and Hermione, and indeed they were. He burst out laughing, while Ron and Hermione flushed, embarrassed.

          "You said your name was Breanna, didn't you? It's very nice." Harry commented.

"Thank you," she replied. "I have many names, though; this one is no different."

"Er… all right, then," Harry said, chuckling nervously. There was something a bit uncanny about this girl, and it wasn't just her way of speaking in riddles. 

          "Who's up for a game of Gobstones, then?" Ron queried, taking out the set his brother had given him for his birthday that year. Harry and Hermione smiled and enthusiastically volunteered. They laughed as Ron numerously got squirted with the foul liquid, and groaned when it was their own turn.

          Breanna Phaon just watched, silent as ever, but Harry could've sworn there was a smile lingering on her lips.  

~*~*~

"First years, transfers… everyone to be Sorted! Please proceed zis way!" a voice that was not Hagrid's called, beckoning a large group of students toward her.

"F… Fl… Fleur?" Harry sputtered incredulously, voicing the words that apparently refused to come out of Ron's mouth. 

"'Ello, 'Arry!" she called, beaming. "I said I would get a job 'ere!" she crowed, smiling with pride. "We shall see each uzzer often, no?"

"I suppose so," Harry answered, fighting the urge to laugh at Ron's still gaping mouth and Hermione's murderous glare. His gaze wandered over to Breanna, who was making her way toward Fleur, silently, of course. 

          "Good luck," Harry said to her, despite the fact that he still made her a bit uncomfortable. She looked just the slightest bit surprised, but replied,

"Thank you, Harry Potter," and went off on her way.

          Harry finally burst out laughing as he saw Hermione's livid face turning from Fleur to Breanna and back again, and Ron's mouth still gaping at Fleur's back. 

          "This is going to be one interesting year," he chuckled, dragging along his two best friends. 

~*~*~

          Breanna followed the veela, and stepped lightly into the same boat that the beautiful young woman did. She gasped along with the rest of the students as they got their first view of the magnificent Hogwarts castle, surprised at how beautiful it was.

The veela led them inside the castle to be intercepted by a stern woman, shoved into a small little hall, and shoved back out into a much larger one. The still-silent Phaon took everything in, from the light of the many flickering candles, to the tables lined with hordes of students, to the solitary, ragged hat sitting on a stool in the center of the room. 

Breanna raised her eyebrows as the hat burst suddenly into song.

_Let me tell you a tale known by many _

_Of the four greatest wizards known_

_I well tell you how Hogwarts School began_

_Ah, ah, now! Don't you dare groan!_

_These four traveled far and wide_

_Searching for young wizards they could teach_

_They united and formed Hogwarts School_

_So all magic folk they could reach_

_But each of them had quirks, you know_

_They each had their own tastes_

_So they formed four houses_

_In which their students could be great_

_In every single Gryffindor_

_You will always find_

_The bravery and strength of the lion_

_You can tell they're one of a kind_

_Ravenclaws have always been known_

_For their namesake's cleverness_

_They love to learn and use their brains_

_And do it in style, no less! _

_The Hufflepuffs, you shall see, _

_Are like the badger, ready to work hard_

_Their loyalty shows they're great friends to have_

_And of cruelty, they obtain not a shard_

_Last, but not least, the Slytherins_

_Are sly and cunning as the snake_

_They're not afraid to get what they want_

_And do whatever it takes_

_So now I continue the tradition_

_Of choosing from among the throng_

_The lions and snakes, the ravens and badgers_

_So put me on, and trust me, for I'm never wrong!_

          Breanna, amused, applauded and chuckled with the rest. After the Sorting Hat had finished its serenade, people moved forward to place the Sorting Hat on their heads. Slowly, she moved forward as, one, by one, the line dwindled. Most of the first years had been Sorted already, and the stern woman, whose name appeared to be McGonagall, announced the Sorting of the students that were coming to Hogwarts already with some education at other schools. 

          "For second year…" Breanna listened with half an ear as several students were sorted, until, finally, the new fifth years were being announced and Sorted.

          "Johnson, Ana" and "Loxceye, Justin" were announced Hufflepuffs, and the Slytherins gained "Normandy, Helen." Finally,

"Phaon, Breanna!"

          Breanna strolled toward the little hat, (which turned out not to be so little, since it fell about to her eyebrows,) and jammed it onto her head. 

          '_Phaon… Phaon… Now that's one I haven't heard…'_ came a little voice in her ear. 

          '_Come on, Hat, stop musing and get on with it,' _she thought back at it, crossing her arms. 

          '_Feisty, aren't we?'_ it observed, chuckling. 

          '_Humph!'_ she returned, reminding herself never again to don a talking hat with a bad sense of humor. 

          _'I heard that! Now then, let's see… no patience, none at all… not good Hufflepuff material. No ambition either, child… You just want to do what needs to be done, and in an honorable fashion at that… no, no, definitely not Slytherin. Gryffindor, perhaps? No, no, not nearly stubborn enough, and not quite as adventurous as Godric would've wanted. I think you have more of a knack for solving puzzles, using your brain… Speaking of which, have you considered a career as a diplomat?'_

_          '!!!' _

_          'Ah. I thought not. Anyway, you're an ideal…_ RAVENCLAW!'

~*~*~

          "…RAVENCLAW!" the Sorting Hat announced, and Breanna returned the hat to its stool. Harry heard Ron breathe a sigh relief. 

          "Thank God! That girl was weird!" Ron exclaimed, settling himself down and preparing to eat. 

"Oh yes, I wasn't very keen on her," Hermione agreed. "Don't you think so, Harry?" she inquired, facing him.

"Well, she was… strange, yes, but… Oh, I don't know… she seems kind of familiar," Harry explained, as much surprised at his own words as Ron and Hermione were. 

"If you say so," Ron muttered doubtfully, as though Harry were off his rocker.

          However, the uncomfortable conversation was cut short as Professor Dumbledore stood up to make his usual announcements. 

          "Good evening, Hogwarts students, new and old, and welcome! Before we begin the feast, I would like to make some announcements. First, please welcome three new teachers. Professor Figg, for Defense Against the Dark Arts…"

          Harry was shocked. Mrs. Figg, with the cats and crotchet chairs, whom he'd grown up next door to? It evidently was so, for as she stood up, smiling, she looked directly at Harry and winked. Harry smiled back, and cheered louder than the rest. 

          "… Mr. Charles Weasley, for Care of Magical Creatures," he continued, and Ron, the twins, Harry, and Hermione erupted into cheers and applause, smiling goofily. A/N: Is his full name Charles? It makes sense to me, since Ron's is Ronald… and it sounds more formal… so deal. 

"I told you I had a surprise for you!" Ron shouted over the applause, smiling more than Harry could've thought possible. 

          "…And finally, Miss Fleur Delacour, for Potions!" The Great Hall shook with the noise everyone was making, with the exception of most of the Slytherins, due partly to Fleur's veela heritage, but mostly to the complete and total absence of Snape. 

          "Ha ha HA!!" Ron cried, hugging Harry and Hermione in turn. "It can't get any better than this! No Snape! Oh, the ecstasy!"

          When the noise finally died down, Dumbledore clapped his hands, and the feast appeared before their eyes, and everyone, especially Harry and Company, ate drank, and were very happy. 

~*~*~

          Breanna took another slice of roast beef, and drowned it in gravy. This was, quite possibly, the very best food she'd ever had.

          "You like that, don't you?" a voice commented beside her, and Breanna turned to face it. She saw a young man of her own age, with messy brown hair, and curiously bright blue eyes. He was smiling in a friendly way, and as Breanna looked into those eyes of his, she realized that they held such a warm mirth, and she couldn't help smiling back. 

          "Yes, I do. It's delicious," she answered, wondering why on Earth he was asking such a silly question of a total stranger. She was still smiling, though.

          "You look so much more friendly when you smile," he observed, and Breanna blushed. _Why is he saying that?_ she asked herself. _Why is he even talking to me? No one's ever just been so… kind to me before, or at least not at a first meeting!_

          He interrupted her, however, by offering his hand and introducing himself.

          "I'm Ewan. Ewan Lowell. Fifth year. It's nice to meet you." He smiled again, those warm eyes sparkling.

          "I'm Breanna Phaon, fifth year, too. Pleasure to meet you, as well," she smiled back at him, and each returned to their plates, not saying another word to each other until they reached Ravenclaw Tower and parted ways on the way to their dorms.

~*~*~

          Breanna flopped onto her new four-poster, relishing in the feel of the goose down duvet and pillows. From the gorgeous wooden trunk at the foot of the bed, she pulled out a navy blue nightgown, thinking it was too ironic that most of her things bore the Ravenclaw colors. 

          And as she tucked herself in, warmed by the soft sheets and the cheerily blazing fire, she couldn't help but feel that she had finally found home. 

~*~*~

Love it? Hate it? Better or worse that the first one? Is the character still Mary-Sue-ish? Please review and tell me! (P.S. If you haven't noticed, the character that used to be Sabrina is now Breanna.)


	2. Comfort is Underrated

Hey-ho! Kermit the Frog here! (Erm… not _really_…) Anyway, welcome to the second chapter of _Harry Potter and Destiny's Calling!_ I'm ever so proud of it! Especially when it's so different from the original version. It's going to be a bit long, but very entertaining, I promise. Wow, I've nothing else to say! Amazing!

DISCLAIMER: My name is not Joanne Kathleen Rowling, nor is it Warner Brothers. I don't believe I need say more. 

Harry Potter and Destiny's Calling

Rated PG for mild language/violence/romance

Chapter Two: Comfort is Underrated

          "Hey, Breanna!" The sleepy young girl turned around to find Ewan Lowell jogging toward her. 

"Good morning, Ewan Lowell," she responded, failing to stifle a yawn. 

"Mind if I join you for breakfast?" he asked her, smiling.

"Er… all right," she answered, trying to smile as well, but being thwarted by yet another yawn. 

"Tired, eh?" Ewan commented with a grin, walking with her to the Great Hall.

"Yes, indeed. They don't have coffee here, do they?" she inquired. 

"No, but they have very strong tea…" Ewan trailed off, noticing Breanna's grumpy frown. "However, if your heart is really set on coffee…" Seeing her eyes light up, he took her by the wrist like a small child, and said, "Come with me."

          Breanna followed, wondering at the heat that was rising in her face. _Hmm… the blood vessels in my face are fully opened,_ she thought to herself, _and for no apparent reason… _It had to be an allergic reaction… though it made absolutely no sense that she was allergic to _Ewan_… 

          They stopped at a large portrait of a fruit bowl.

"Ah… er… Ewan Lowell? Er… what is the purpose of this?" she asked, nervously looking around, lest she be caught with a crazy person tickling a picture of a pear. 

"You said you wanted coffee, didn't you? And you can call me Ewan, you know," he added, pulling at a handle that appeared where the painted pear had been moments before. The portrait swung open, and the two Ravenclaws stepped inside. 

          "Good morning, sir and miss!" came a few squeaky voices from below. Breanna looked down and gasped.

"What are those creatures?" she asked of Ewan, pointing at the little green things that were bowing their long-eared heads, wearing strange-looking togas of Hogwarts tea towels. Ewan chuckled in reply and said,

"They're only house-elves. They do most of the cooking and cleaning around the castle."

"Oh." More chuckles from Ewan.

"You didn't grow up with a wizard family, did you?" he asked, and Breanna shook her head. He turned to the elves, asked for a coffee and two Danishes, and invited his companion to sit down on a small bench with him. 

          Breanna took her coffee and Danish, and accepted Ewan's invitation. Her face still had a faint pink tinge, but Ewan didn't seem to notice, for he just talked on in that pleasant way of his. Breanna stored in her memory everything he said, from the history of house-elves to information about Hogwarts.

          Looking down at a strange timepiece, he took Breanna's hand (the house-elves had already taken her things) and helped her up.

          "Come on, it's almost time for class," he told her, and, as if on cue, church bells far off in the distance began to toll the hour. Breanna followed Ewan outside in silence, but finally began to speak as they walked to class together.

"Why are you so kind to me, Ewan Lo… I mean, Ewan?" she asked of him, her tone demanding, though not harshly so. Ewan seemed to think for a moment, shrugged, smiled, and merely said,

"Must I have a reason?"

          Breanna blinked in surprise, and could say nothing else the rest of the way to Transfiguration. If Breanna's silence bothered Ewan at all, he was certainly a good actor, for his characteristically amiable face and manner were the same as always. 

          After encountering several confusing twists, turns, and inanimate objects with a sense of humor, the silent pair arrived in the Transfiguration classroom. Breanna took a seat beside a window overlooking the sloping lawns of Hogwarts School, and Ewan, taking the last available seat, sat two rows to the right of her. Breanna immediately turned her face to the window, thinking about things that to this day remain unknown to all, saving herself and God. 

          She was forced rather rudely back into reality when the whole classroom suddenly had the insane urge to burst into laughter and applause, for no apparent reason.

          Poor Breanna, of course, hadn't seen a stern woman come flying out of the fireplace grate.

~*~*~

          "…These are a few of my favorite things!" Ron merrily sang on his way to the dungeon, a very amused Harry, and a slightly confused Hermione trailing in his wake. Apparently, a few of Ron's favorite things were:

1.       The absence of creepy, stupid tossers who had no right to call themselves professors

2.       The absence of incurably greasy hair

3.       The absence of incurably large, ugly, hooked, and most likely boogie-filled noses

4.       The absence of the one person who, by some gruesome, twisted miracle, embodied all of the above, AND…

5.       The replacement of said twisted miracle by a beautiful young woman who actually could recall his name

          As you can surely deduct by now, the young trio was headed toward their first Potions lesson of the year, and for the first time in their lives, they were, especially Ron, looking forward to it. As a matter of fact, even Hermione, who had no particular warm feelings towards Fleur, or now Miss, Delacour, waited anxiously with the rest at the dungeon's entrance.

          "'Ello, everyone. Please, come in to ze class," Fleur instructed, fishing her wand out of her robes and using it to open the door. Every male being, with the exception of a bashful Neville, and Ron, who was being held back by Harry and Hermione, rushed in, fighting over the seats closest to Fleur's table on the raised platform towards the front of the room. The outcome was as follows: Pansy Parkinson, seeing Malfoy involved in the little brawl, was aroused by jealousy, and beat up everyone else for the front table. The dejected male population found seats elsewhere, with the exception of Malfoy, who was forced, not too reluctantly, to sit with Pansy. Fleur, bustling about with lighting the dungeon and collecting her lesson plans, did not see all this happening. 

          "Zis is my first class here at Hogwarts, so please be kind," she requested, smiling a little and stepping up onto her raised platform. "I will start by calling ze roll," she continued, magicking a long sheet of parchment into her hand.

          She called everyone, stopping to beam and wink at Harry upon reaching his name. His stomach turned flip-flops at that moment for no apparent reason, and he was so engrossed in pondering what could've caused them that he didn't notice the fuming expressions of Ron and Hermione.  

          When she was through, she tapped the roll sheet with her wand, letting it disappear in a puff of smoke, and clapped her hands. 

          "Now zen," she announced, projecting her voice so it reached all corners of the dungeon. "We will begin today's lesson by listing and taking out all of zese ingredients." She tapped her wand on the blackboard behind her, and words appeared, seemingly scrawled by invisible hands. The class did as they were told, with the exception of missing a few rather strange and rare materials that weren't on the list of potions requirements. Smiling, Fleur clasped her hands behind her back and queried, "Who can tell me, from zese unique ingredients, what potion we are going to brew today?"

          Unsurprisingly, Hermione's hand immediately flew skyward; the small shock came when Ron, Malfoy, and even Neville's hand joined hers. 

"Meester Malfoy?"

"That would be Persephone's Poison, a very powerful, and almost deadly sleeping draught," he drawled rather smugly, lifting his lips in a half smile that he probably found roguish and handsome. Pansy Parkinson was drooling, but it appeared as though Fleur wanted to be sick. Getting her revenge, she raised her voice so all could hear her embarrassing reply. 

"I'm afraid zat ees incorrect, Meester Malfoy. You see, Persephone's Poison requires ze key ingredient of a hair from ze 'ead of Cerberus or one of his kin, which zis potion does not contain. Anyone else? Ah, Meester Weasel-ly."

"Er… ahm… it's… verseritum… er, I mean, veritaserum…" he mumbled, the tips of his ears red hot. 

"Zat ees correct, Meester Weasel-ly. Ten points to Gwyffindor 'ouse!" 

The class suddenly buzzed with nervous conversation. Even the mildest veritaserum was very hard to make, requiring exact precision as far as the measurement of ingredients and the time at which to add and brew them. 

"Order, class!" Fleur intervened, though she didn't seem particularly annoyed at the chatter. "Please proceed by turning to page 152 in your textbooks. You will find explicit instructions on how to brew your veritaserum. Keep in mind that you will make ze _mildest_ veritaserum listed. Any attempts to make anysing more complicated will result in disciplinary measures. Und-air-stood?" The class nodded their assent. "Very well. I want you to pair up in twos with a partner of your choice," here her lips lifted in a feral grin, "zough I advise your partner be someone you know considerably well." Her countenance returned to its usual sweet norm. 

"Each pair will brew enough veritaserum for two doses, and two doses alone, and will measure out ze ingredients accordingly. While your potion is brewing, each of you, taking turns, will ask questions zat you sink your partner might lie about, and record each question and answer. When your potion ees complete, each of you will take your dose, and will ask the very same questions that you asked previously. You will record each new answer, and compare both sets. Please, when you are not under ze influence of ze veritaserum, answer as you normally would, whether or not it would be a lie. And I warn all of you, do not ask questions zat will hurt you should ze answer you receive not be what you expected." Several students looked at classmates of the opposite sex, grinning nervously and gulping. "I will be coming around to inspect your progress. Pair up now, please."

The following frenzy was quite comical. Hermione, throwing an apologetic look at Harry, grabbed a very hesitant Ron and dragged him over to her table. Far off towards the front of the dungeon, Pansy was almost forced to beat Malfoy into submission. Crabbe and Goyle, not seeing what the big deal was since they didn't have a clue what they were supposed to do in the first place, followed the example set by their classmates, and paired up with each other. Harry turned behind him to Seamus, but the latter was already beaming, having been chosen by a blushing and slyly smiling Parvati. Lavender, not appreciating behind left in the dust by her best friend for a _guy_, marched over to Neville, pushed him over to the table beside Lavender and Seamus's, and began setting out ingredients. The main result of all this was a very amused Fleur, who was failing at fighting back several sniggers, and a rather put out Harry, who was left, cross-armed and alone, in the middle of the room without a partner. Fleur just _happened_ to notice this, and, smiling, brought him over to her raised table at the front of the room. 

"Since zair ees one student left, Meester Potter here and I will be working togezzer," she announced, fighting back a smile when Harry was bombarded with jealous, menacing glares. Harry, seeing this, blushed furiously, pretending to be very interested in the ingredients on the table before him. "Please take any ingredients you are missing from the cart by ze sinks, and begin making your potions," she called out, turning to Harry when every student started shuffling about collecting their materials. 

"Stay here," she told Harry when he began to walk over to the sinks with the rest of the class. "We have everyzing here at my table," she informed him, taking some bottles out of her drawers. "Let us begin, shall we?" Harry smiled nervously, and began following the instructions, taking advice from Fleur, who was leaning over his shoulder and watching his work. 

"Very nice," she praised as his brew began to bubble softly. "I sink you can watch ze potion a moment while I check on ze students." She stepped down from the platform and walked around the dungeon, pointing out some students' mistakes and giving advice. She only took a few minutes, and the potion was beginning to turn a whitish color when she returned to Harry. 

"Now do you want to start asking ze questions, or do you want me to go first?" she asked him. Harry couldn't help but notice that her smile seemed a bit predatory.  

"Er… you can start, I suppose."

"All right. Let's begin weeth an easy one… Who are your closest friends?"

"Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger," he answered without hesitation.

"Okay…" she scribbled the answer down on her parchment, and continued. 

"Hermione Granger… ze one over zair weeth Meester Weasel-ly? That doesn't count, by ze way," she added, returning her gaze to Harry.

"Yes, that's her," he answered, not even looking over in the direction Fleur indicated. He already knew Hermione was paired up with Ron. It was strange, because he knew that any time before the school year, it wouldn't have bothered him. But now, all of a sudden, it did…

"'Arry?" Fleur's worried tone brought him back down to Earth. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, what was that?" he asked, surprised at the strange expressions on Fleur's face. Harry recognized worry; that had been on his own face more times than he could remember, and though that was strange enough, it wasn't as out of place as the next expression. It looked a bit like anger, but not quite… annoyance, perhaps…? No. Jealousy…? 

Harry had no time to consider this any longer, because Fleur continued her questions. 

"Do you have feelings for ze Granger girl?" she abruptly asked, her grin now very noticeably evil-looking. 

"Well, she's my friend, of course…" he replied, his face turning red. 

"You know zat eesn't what I meant," she returned, her eyes bright with curiosity.

"No! No, it's… it's not what you think, it's not like that," he sputtered, looking away. Somehow, his eyes found Ron and Hermione. He was surprisingly disturbed at the sight of her giggling and Ron nervously blushing. Forcing his vision back onto Fleur, his unpleasant thoughts were dispelled at the sight of that strange expression lingering on Fleur's face once more. 

"Aha. Okay, let us move on…" 

Fleur asked a few neutral questions; such as if he thought her English was improving, what his favorite classes were, if he enjoyed attending Hogwarts, etc. When she was satisfied, Harry asked her some equally neutral questions, and by the time he was done, the bubbling potion had turned a crystalline clear color.

"Ah! Ze potion ees finished!" Fleur announced, clapping her hands together. She ladled some into two glass vials, and set them down on her desk. However, in the process, she accidentally knocked her bottle of ink over, the thick glass only cracking slightly, but landing so all the ink spilled out. Harry stooped down to clean it up, but Fleur said she would do it, and asked him to get a new bottle of ink from her adjacent office. He did so, rather glad to be away from her and her confusing aura for a moment. 

Seeing as his back was turned, he didn't see the ink magically disappear with a wave of her wand. Nor did he see her replace his vial of veritaserum with one from her pocket, and hers with a vial of plain water. 

~*~*~

"Enough, now, settle down," ordered a very sooty Professor McGonagall, and the classroom immediately complied. If she was embarrassed at her entrance, she didn't show it, for the aging woman merely removed the soot with a wave of her wand, and straightened her emerald hat and robes. 

"Now, begin by taking out your wands, and putting your textbooks, quills and parchment away while I call roll. We will have a hands-on lesson today." The entire class cheered, then did as they were told, each calling "present!" as their names were called. 

"Very well," McGonagall said when she had finished, the parchment flying to a desk drawer at the flick of her wand. "Today I will test your basic knowledge of transfiguration. If you do not pass, you will be exempt from the lessons in the first quarter, and required to take them over during the summer holidays." Breanna held back a smile as many of the students gulped nervously, wands shaking in their hands. 

"Let's begin," McGonagall said, walking to the back of the room. She motioned for everyone to queue up behind her, and several small, silent fights broke out over who got the back spots. Breanna and Ewan somehow ended up next to each other towards the front. 

"Now, some of you may not be able to see it, but there is a large rock on a table here. Your task is to turn the rock into the first animate thing that enters your head; anything at all, so long as it is not an inanimate object, such as a broom or a book, or something of that nature. If, of course, the first animate thing that pops into your head is dangerous the life or health of a human being, you may not transfigure it into that. If you do, points will be taken off, if you don't fail on the spot. Young man, you're first now, go on," she finished, standing far back from the table. Somehow, Breanna didn't have the most pleasant feeling about this, but she watched all the same as a short, raven-haired youth nervously stepped up to the table. He seemed to think for a moment, and suddenly, his face lit up. With a flash and a poof, a turtle crawled about where the rock had been only moments before. It seemed legitimate enough to Breanna, and McGonagall appeared to agree.

"Very nice, Mr. Chen, full marks, and five points to Ravenclaw." McGonagall, with a flick of her own wand, then transfigured the creature back into a rock.

Three more students transfigured the rock before Breanna, turning it into a rabbit, which was so adorable that McGonagall conjured up another rock and let the student keep the animal, followed, oddly enough, by a puffskein.* The last one successfully turned the rock into what looked like an exceptionally large and ugly fairy, but was discovered to be a pixie when it attempted to lift the professor up by the ears. He only received seventy-five percent, and a "feel lucky that it wasn't less!" from McGonagall for that one. 

"Miss Phaon, please proceed," McGonagall instructed after taking a glance at Breanna's badge. "Good luck," Ewan whispered over her shoulder, patting her reassuringly on the arm. She glanced briefly back at him, feeling just a bit more confident after hearing his words. Breanna somewhat nervously stepped up to the table, furiously trying to think of something that she could transfigure a rock into. Suddenly, an image of a ginger cat came to mind, and she immediately lifted her wand.

"Please," she implored under her breath. "Please let me do something right."

"Transfiguro," she muttered, cringing and closing her eyes in protest as a loud crack and a blast of light was emitted from her wand. 

          Daring to lift her eyelids, she saw something that looked like almost like a cat, but more like a very miniature lion. The body was a cat's, but its ears were oversized, and the tail, with a gray tuft at the end, was that of a lion. Breanna winced, hoping she would at least get some credit for its flawless black fur and beautiful silver eyes. 

          "A very nice kneazle, Miss Phaon, although I'm afraid some points must be taken off for its lack of spots or flecks on its fur. Ninety-seven percent." Lifting her eyebrows as she saw the silver eyes that seemed almost to match Breanna's, and at the way the creature immediately leapt into her creator's arms and fondly licked her face, Professor McGonagall again conjured another rock, and allowed Breanna to take her new companion with her. 

          "But, if I do not see you with the proper license by next week, I'm going to have to hold the kneazle until you do," she warned, scribbling something on a new sheet of parchment that had magically appeared on her desk. "Understood?"

          "Yes, Professor," Breanna replied, though she had absolutely no idea what her teacher was talking about, nor did she understand why she had called her strange creation a kneazle. 

          But she realized, as she looked into her new pet's strange silver eyes, which almost mirrored her own, that this animal had come into existence for a reason.

          She intended to find out what that reason was.   

~*~*~

          Harry came back from getting the ink, and sat down on a stool in front of Fleur.

          "Are you ready?" she asked, handing him his vial of potion. Harry nodded in response, and took the vial. 

          "All right. Drink ze potion, and I'll begin ze questions." Harry, with shaking hands, removed the cork stopper, and drained the contents of the little glass vial in an instant. He was surprised to find it utterly tasteless, and suddenly understood why it was so easy to slip into someone's drink. 

          "Who are your two best friends?"

          "Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger." Scribble, scribble. Intense, really scary look.

          "Do you have feelings for ze Granger girl?" More intense looks. Sweat breaking out on head.

          Harry could feel the answer, slowly, ever so slowly, rising up from his heart, drifting leisurely up through to his throat and vocal chords…

          But he resisted. He had to. He knew he didn't want to say what the potion wanted him to. The potion was trying to make him lie! No! It wasn't true! How could he have feelings for her; they were just friends! Resist! RESIST! _RESIST!_

          So he resisted. His face grew tomato red with the effort, his veins were on fire and so was his head, and he felt as though he would pass out, if not die, right on the spot. But, finally, he said what he wanted to say and not what the potion wanted him to; it was through gritted teeth, almost inaudible, and with extreme effort, but out it came:

          "Nnn… nuh… no…"

          Fleur was surprised, Harry was triumphant, and both were quite red. Thankfully, the time had come for dismissal, and everyone, already having cleaned up, migrated over to the dungeon door like sheep.

          Harry bent down to pick things up and put them away, but Fleur stopped him.

          "I'll do it, 'Arry. By ze way, I would like you to come see me in my office. Wednesday, during tea. You are not busy, no?"

          "No, I'm… I'm not… See you Wednesday…" and he hurried off to join Ron and Hermione, who were waiting for him by the dungeon door.

~*~*~

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Ewan asked of Breanna, petting his friend's new familiar on their way to their next class. 

          "Er… actually, I don't know… I don't even know what it is, aside from a strange cat… thing…" she answered, lifting the animal and staring into its face in confusion. Ewan chuckled. 

          "That's right, you don't come from a wizard family. It's a kneazle, like McGonagall said. Speaking of which, yours is a bit out of the ordinary, because it doesn't have spots or flecks like most. But anyway, a kneazle is kind of like the wizard version of a cat. But it's even better, because they detect suspicious people and help you find your way when you're lost, and things like that. Very smart, too, and kind of hostile. But fiercely loyal if they take a liking to someone." Breanna looked up at him in wonder.

          "You know a lot about animals for someone who couldn't turn a rock into a hedgehog." Ewan blushed, and Breanna smiled. Ewan noticed that Breanna's smiles were a bit rare, but very nice when she tried. With a small start that he hoped he hadn't shown, he realized that he wanted to make her smile more often. Instead of saying this, however, he just shrugged and continued the conversation. 

          "Let's just say that I'm better with actual animals than I am with transfiguration," he said, getting another smile out of Breanna. "You seem to be better at both, though," he added.

          "Me?" She seemed shocked, and shook her head. "I was trying to turn the rock into a cat. A cat with orange fur, for that matter. And I have no idea why it's being so…" she sputtered, the creature having licked her mouth. Ewan thought he saw mischievous laughter in its eyes. "… So nice to me," she finished. "Animals don't usually take a liking to me." Here, her eyes clouded. "Nothing does, come to think of it."

          Ewan stopped, grabbed Breanna's arm, and looked her straight in the eye. "I've taken a liking to you." _Oh, damn! Where did that come from? Ohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrap…_

          "Thank you, Ewan Lowell," she responded, though her smile was sad, and held deep pain. Ewan, very quickly discovering that he didn't like it when she was in pain, took her kneazle, and lifted it, so he could see its belly.

          "It's definitely a boy," he announced, and Breanna blushed, for what could have been several reasons. "What will you name him?"

          "Riordan."

~*~*~

Well, how'd you like it? Mysterious, no? I know it took me forever, but I hope it was worth it! Please, read/review/criticize/flame, whatever you see fit!!!!

*Puffskein: (As defined in _Fantastic Beasts & Where to Find Them_) The puffskein is found worldwide. Spherical in shape, and colored in soft, custard-colored fur, it is a docile creature that has no objection to being cuddled or thrown about. … The puffskein… has a particular preference for sticking its tongue up the nose of sleeping wizards and eating their bogies. This tendency has made the puffskein much beloved by wizarding children for many generations and remains a popular wizarding pet. (Not in the book: It has also been known to be used by the Weasley twins for Bludger practice.)


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